


Fight or Flight

by wolfblood



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Gale and Madge Reaped, Hurt/Comfort, POV Alternating, Romantic Friendship, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfblood/pseuds/wolfblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the 74th Hunger Games, Madge being named tribute has nothing to do with chance, but punishment for her traitorous rebel father. When Gale is chosen as tribute with her, he must make a decision: join the Rebellion or simply try and win the Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Lamb For the Slaughter

Something small and wet pressed against Madge's cheek as she slept, causing her to wrinkle her nose and turn her face away. Then it came again, more insistent this time, with the distinct feel of whiskers and fur. With a sigh, Madge opened her eyes enough to see that daylight was coming in through the line where her curtains didn't quite meet. It seemed bright enough that she'd probably slept in longer than intended. She felt as if she'd only just gone to sleep, though, and cursed her kitten for wanting food in the first place.

But that had been one of the conditions when she'd found the shivering kitten beneath the porch, mewling weakly beside his dead mother and one of his siblings. Either Madge cared for him herself, or there would be no kitten in their home. Truthfully, she doubted her father had even expected him to live, but Snow had, for nearly half a year now, and she loved him fiercely. "Alright, alright," Madge muttered when his nose touched her again, this time just below her ear. Turning toward him she watched his paws kneading the pillow, claws catching in the fabric of its covering when he tried to retract them.

"Enough of that, Daddy won't be happy if he knows you're scratching up all my things." Snow's ears twitched at the sound of Madge's voice, his eyes going from that odd green-gold color to mostly black as his pupils dilated. The moment she touched him, those eyes closed, and she could feel the vibration of his purring as she scratched beneath his chin. If she could stay here for the entirety of the day, she would. If only she could remain in bed, without having to dress herself in her nicest clothes and stand among the other children, waiting to see which of them would be taken away for the slaughter.

Reaping days were always hard on her family, especially her mother who only came to the town square because it was required, and would then slip back into her room like a ghost, easing her pain with morphling. There was nothing anyone could say, Madge had learned that years ago. No amount of comforting made Margoree Undersee's tears stop when the Reaping came. Certainly not when that comforting came from Madge, not anymore. She'd come to look too much like her mother's twin, too much like the actual ghost that haunted her mother's dreams.

Today, like all the other Reapings, was not a day for lounging in bed. Snow meowed at Madge, reminding her that she had other reasons to get up. To feed him, for one. To ask after her mother, for another. Tannis, their maid, was likely helping with that, picking which clothes should be worn, then helping her into them. Tears stung Madge's eyes as she thought of it, hating that the way she looked prevented her from being able to help her own mother in this way. It was her responsibility, not Tannis'. Perhaps that was why she'd pleaded so much for Snow's life. So that she might have someone to take care of, after all.

Pushing back her covers, Madge sat up, allowing Snow to crawl into her lap briefly before she stood. His food was simple beef jerky, kept in a glass jar on top of a bookcase too high for the kitten to ever be able to reach, even when he became old enough. Madge couldn't even reach it, despite her being slightly taller than the average girl in District Twelve, not without the stepping stool. Gently, she set the kitten on the floor before she got the jerky, tearing it into pieces small enough for him to easily chew once she was sitting on the floor beside him. She was putting off getting ready, not wanting to face another Reaping.

There was only so long Madge could sit there. When the sound of her father in the study down the hall came to her through the walls, she sighed again, giving one last pet to Snow. He meowed mournfully at her, or more likely at the loss of another handful containing bits of jerky, but she ignored him. Instead, she crossed to her closet, opening it and taking out the white dress her father had gotten her for this day. She hated that, that he'd bought her something new just for the Reaping. It was pretty though, she had to admit that, and it would look nice on her. Perhaps with a bright colored ribbon, blue or pink, tying her hair back.

It only took Madge twenty minutes, after her fifteen minute bath, until she was ready to leave her room. Snow had, by then, curled into a content ball on her pillow and was sleeping. How she envied him as she stepped out into the hall, glancing at him again before closing the door softly behind her. She'd only just made it to the bottom step when she heard the knock at the back entry, the one only Tannis and the few other servants they had used, or Katniss when she had something to sell. The thought of her friend, if that was even the right word for what they were, brought a slight smile to her face. That, and the prospect of strawberries.

Once the door had opened, the greeting Madge had intended to deliver died in her throat, along with that ever so small smile. Of course Katniss had come with Gale. It wasn't the first time, and she highly doubted it would be the last. There was nothing wrong with it, really, except that he always wound up saying at least one thing designed to hurt her feelings. Or so Madge thought. For all she actually knew he didn't care enough to be actively trying to make her feel poorly. More precisely, for all she knew about Katniss, which was admittedly not very much, she knew even less about Gale. Except, of course, that he thought she was a spoiled town girl.

As likely evidenced by the first words out of his mouth. "Pretty dress," he told her, in a tone that left her wondering if he was mocking her yet again.

It was rather ambiguous, but coming from him, seemed like an insult. The odds of his being sincere weren't high, not in her mind. It made her feel self-conscious, one of her hands coming up to rest on her neck as if that would protect her from his judgement. It didn't, not that she'd really expected it to. "Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" Madge said, avoiding looking at him. What she wanted to say was that she wouldn't be wearing this dress if her father hadn't bought it, if the Capitol hadn't commanded that each of them wear their nicest clothes to the Reapings.

"You won't be going to the Capitol."

Gale's words had a touch of steel to them, a coldness Madge had never heard from him before. Glancing at him, she noticed he was staring at her pin, the one her mother had given her several years ago. It had belonged to her aunt, Maysilee. She was uncomfortably aware that the pin was made of real gold, and that both Katniss and Gale couldn't even afford to buy enough food for their own families. Wasn't that why they were here? To sell illegally harvested strawberries to her for money so that they could care for their siblings and mothers?

"What can you have? Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old," Gale continued, his eyes locked on Madge's. She simply stood staring at him, unsure what to say. There were no lies to it. What could she say? The odds were in her favor when it came to the Reaping, and they were not in his, nor Katniss'.

"That's not her fault," Katniss broke in, in a conciliatory tone that made it clear she was trying to end whatever fight this was before it got any worse. Madge certainly wasn't going to stop her.

"No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," Gale conceded, shaking his head slightly as he looked Madge over again.

His eyes traveled from her nice, clean black shoes, to her expensive white dress, to her hair, braided up with a pretty pink ribbon securing it, until his eyes finally rested on her face. She wondered what he saw there. A girl he hated because she'd never seen the hardships he had? Because her name was only entered five times? Because she wore a pin that was likely worth more than anything they'd managed to hunt today?

Pressing her lips together, Madge looked away. She held out a handful of coins she'd grabbed from the counter on her way to the door. "Good luck, Katniss," she said, pointedly ignoring Gale. If she didn't look at him, didn't acknowledge his existence, perhaps it would be easier to pretend he wasn't there at all, to pretend that his words hadn't been covered in barbs that had stuck in her skin. Now, feeling worse than she had in her room, Madge closed the door, only barely hearing Katniss wish her luck in return.

All her eagerness over the prospect of strawberries was gone. Madge placed the bag on the counter, not bothering to open it to see what was inside. She was angry. Angry at Gale for his comments, and herself for letting them get to her. Whatever he said, she was still frightened that her name would get called. Weren't they all just frightened children? Her name might not be in as many times as his was, but it was still there, and there was still a chance she could go to the Capitol. She hated that part of her wondered if he'd feel bad were her name actually called. The thought made her feel sick.

"Don't worry, dear," Tannis' voice came from behind Madge, causing her to jump. She hadn't known the maid was there. "You're not going to be picked. One of them girls from the Seam, they'll get picked before you do. Don't worry about it," and coming from her, it seemed less like it was meant to insult Madge. The words still stung, because she didn't like that those  _girls_ _from_ _the_ _Seam_  were more likely to be sent to their deaths. But that's the way it was, just like Gale had said.

All of Madge's anger fizzled out of her. What right did she have to be angry? Compared to what those in the Seam had, she had everything. She couldn't remember a day she'd ever gone to bed hungry, or cold because her father couldn't afford to keep her warm at night. Madge  _was_ privileged, there was no denying it. In retrospect, she supposed she could understand why Gale would hate her. Could she blame him? Would she feel any different if their roles were reversed?

"Is mother ready to go?" Madge asked, in an attempt to distract herself from thinking too hard. It was only making her sad, and guilty. Because what did she have to be sad about, really, compared to others in her District?

"Yes, all dressed. I believe she's waiting for you in the other room," Tannis motioned toward the front of the house, a strained smile on her face as she turned to leave. She had to be at the Reaping, too.

"Thank you," Madge told her, hoping that her maid's daughter, thirteen years old, wouldn't be chosen either. As an afterthought, she called after Tannis, "There's a bag on the counter, please, take it home with you. To celebrate, after the Reaping."

Tannis paused, looking back at Madge for a moment, her expression confused. "But you paid for them," she said, clearly hesitant about the idea of accepting the gift, "for yourself."

"For you," Madge lied, knowing that it would be obvious. When had she ever bought anything for her maid? Never. Yet, she hoped that this once, Tannis wouldn't argue, that she would accept this small bit of kindness, even though it was just strawberries, or whatever kind of berry Katniss and Gale had collected.

"Thank you, then."

Without another word, Tannis was gone, the bag with her, leaving Madge standing alone. Tears filled her eyes again, forcing her to stay where she was until she'd managed to get her emotions under control. It wouldn't do to greet her mother like this. No, Madge always had to be cheerful, happy. Otherwise it only made her mother worse. That, in itself, made her want to cry now, to disappear into her room with Snow and just cry. But she couldn't.

Her mother was sitting on the piano bench when Madge finally found her, fingers poised above the keys as if she were going to play. She wouldn't. According to her father, she hadn't played since the day Maysilee had been taken away twenty-four years ago. She did, however, like to hear Madge play. There were nights when she'd just come into the room, and sit quietly near the door as she listened. Then she would leave, just as silently as she'd come, without a word. That she came at all meant something to Madge, even if she probably wasn't the reason her mother even came to listen.

"Mother?" Madge had to say it three times before her mother looked up, noticing that she was there. In an instant she was on her feet, coming towards Madge with a look of happiness on her face.

"Maysilee?" her mother asked, voice barely a whisper, and so uncertain that Madge knew there was fear there, that this girl in front of her would turn out, yet again, to not be her sister, but her daughter. What a disappointing thing that must be. Madge couldn't help the tears this time, and she turned away quickly so that her mother wouldn't see them falling on her cheeks. Though, if she were being honest, she turned so that she wouldn't see that look on her mother's face when she realized that it was only Madge, not her Maysi.

"Margy, it's not Maysilee."

Madge hadn't known her father had come into the room. It seemed it was a day for people sneaking up on her unannounced. She didn't need to look back to know that he'd crossed the room, or that he'd taken her mother's hand. This was a scene that had played out countless times before, enough that Madge knew what would come next. Sure enough, her father's whispered words filled the room, so gently, like they always were, explaining what her mother's mind could not always process on its own. It was too much. Madge left them without bothering to excuse herself.

Outside, she felt marginally better. As she walked, the fresh air helped clear her mind. Before she knew it, she was at the center of town, making her way to the group of girls her own age. They were early, all of them, with plenty of time before the Reaping actually began. Madge could have tried to make idle conversation with them, but didn't bother. She'd never made real effort to make friends with any of the other children in District Twelve. Most didn't like her, on principle, because she was the Mayor's daughter. What was the point in trying?

It didn't take long for Madge's father to arrive, to take his seat beside Effie Trinket, the escort from the Capitol. As always, she was colorful, dressed in the fashion of the place she'd come from. Something about her always reminded Madge of the colorful birds that sometimes flew into the District. She spent the remaining time, as the rest of the citizens filled the square, thinking of Snow, and how much he'd love to chase after those birds if she were to let him outside. When two o'clock came, she listened, like everyone else, as her father began to speak.

Really, Madge had heard it so many times she probably could have recited it just as well. The history, the District's tributes. Probably any of them could, except perhaps the smaller children. It wasn't exactly something the Capitol would want any of them to forget. That was why, after all, the Hunger Games existed, to remind them all of how powerless were they were against the Capitol's might. Madge sighed, just as Haymitch Abernathy stumbled onto the stage, embarrassed on behalf her father, who was trying in vain to take the attention off the drunk Victor.

Madge stared at Haymitch as he sat. That was the man who had lived while her aunt had died. She knew it hadn't been his fault. The muttations had killed Maysilee, not Haymitch. But he'd lived, and what was he now? A drunk. An embarrassment to their District. It took real effort to stop thinking of him, and in turn her aunt, and mother. Madge tried to focus on Effie, who was pulling a slip out of the glass ball reserved for the girls, smiling in a way that didn't sit well. What was there to be happy about when it came to this? Nothing.

Yet there Effie was, smiling as she said the name of the tribute, a name that caused Madge to blink, the breath going out of her as if she'd been hit. Madge Undersee. She was the tribute. Looking around, Madge felt as if this weren't real. It had to be a nightmare. But they were all looking at her, with disbelief on their faces. Had they all, like Gale, assumed that because she was the Mayor's daughter she would never be picked? It took a Peacekeeper tugging at her arm to get her moving.

There was a slight disturbance as she made her way. First, the sound of a woman sobbing floated over the crowd to her. Then her mother screaming her name between sobs, with so much desperation that Madge stopped, turning to look back. A Peacekeeper held her mother, but she was fighting against him, struggling to free herself so that she could go to her daughter. Madge couldn't stop the tears, or herself from trembling. It wasn't until they'd dragged her mother away that the Peacekeeper at her arm continued to escort her to the stage.

Once she was there, Madge stared out at the crowd, not really seeing them. They were quiet, all of them. More so than usual, not even clapping like they were supposed to, pretending they were congratulating whoever had been chosen. Haymitch broke the quiet, lurching forward with Maysilee's name on his lips. He seemed confused, his eyes searching Madge's face, darting down to look at the pin on her dress, then back up. Whatever else he was going to say or do, she didn't know. A pair of Peacekeepers came forward, grabbing his arms and pulling him away from her as well.

Madge didn't hear Effie as she began to speak, presumably moving the Reaping along so that she could call the boy's name. Her voice was like static, background noise that meant nothing to Madge. It wasn't until he was standing beside her that she realized it was Gale, his face paler than usual, but calm. Together they listened as Madge's father began reciting the Treaty of Treason, his voice weak. She wanted to look at him, to assure him that she was fine, that everything would be fine. But it wouldn't be, and Madge was afraid if she looked at her father she wouldn't be able to stop herself from sobbing.

When he finally stopped speaking, Madge knew she was supposed to shake Gale's hand. Only she didn't, not right away. She simply stared at him, breathing heavily as she tried to stay calm, mostly trying to stop herself from falling apart completely. This couldn't be real. It  _had_  to be a nightmare. Gale's hand was strong when it grabbed Madge's, not trembling like hers was. She tried to draw strength from him, because she knew she would need it, but then his hand was gone and they were turned back toward the crowd.

It was unusual, that still, there was no applause. District Twelve was silent as they looked at their tributes. Madge lifted a hand to wipe her tears off her face at the same moment there was movement in the crowd. Her eyes found Katniss, who had lifted her hand in a three fingered salute. She'd only ever seen it at funerals, but Madge knew the meaning behind it: thanks, admiration, good-bye to someone you love. It was for Gale, she knew that. Still, she told herself that just maybe, it was meant for her, too.

Then, one by one, the rest of the crowd did the same. They touched the three middle fingers of their left hands to their lips, then raised them in the air. Instantly the anthem of Panem began playing and Peacekeepers descended on the crowd to disperse them. A Peacekeeper nudged Madge, moving her toward the side of the stage. She didn't try to stop him, mostly because she still wasn't fully comprehending what was happening. Where was her father? He wasn't on the stage anymore. Where had they taken her mother? And Haymitch? And why?

"Don't touch me," Gale's voice snapped from behind Madge, pulling her out of her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder to see him glaring at a Peacekeeper before turning to leave of his own free will. When he saw her, with a Peacekeeper's hand on her elbow he stopped, a look of anger on his face. "Let her go, she doesn't need you to force her."

The Peacekeeper's hand on Madge tightened, so much that it hurt. Instinctively she tried to pull away, her body twisting until she could see not all of the crowd had left yet, that many of them were watching the stage still, Katniss among them. Then she was being yanked forward, the Peacekeeper refusing to relinquish his hold on her. From the sound of it, Gale was being forced as well, though he was putting up much more of a fight than she was. Sure enough, when they were taken their separate ways to the Justice Building, she caught a glimpse of him, with his lip bleeding.

Unceremoniously, the Peacekeepers deposited Madge into a large room, locking the door behind them. She sat on a chair, staring at the floor, waiting. This was the time, she knew, when her family would come to see her. Or her friends, if she'd had any. But no one came. Time passed, enough time that she knew no one was coming for her. Not her father, not her mother. No one. When the sound of the door unlocking came, she thought it was just going to be the Peacekeepers, but it was Katniss, to her surprise.

Rushing forward, Katniss didn't spare a glance at the Peacekeeper who closed the door behind her. Instead she came and sat beside Madge, grasping her hand briefly as if to comfort her. It was a level of familiarity that had before been unknown between them. Madge hadn't even known if they were really friends. Not until now. They had to be, if she had come to see her? It took her a moment to realize that Katniss was speaking.

"What?" Madge whispered, hating how lost her voice sounded.

"You run, Madge," Katniss told her in a rush. "When you get to the arena, you run, and you don't look back and you hide, you hear me? Run, find water, hide. You're smart, you can figure out how to keep away from them." She was telling her how to survive, Madge realized. It didn't matter, though.

"I'm not going to win, Katniss," Madge's voice broke, beginning to cry in earnest. "You know that."

"You might," Katniss said, but there was no real conviction in it.

"What happened to my parents?" she asked suddenly, not wanting to talk about how it was certain she'd die in the arena. She'd never see her father again, or see her mother listening to her play piano, or sleep with Snow cuddled beside her. It was too much. "Why didn't they come?"

"The Peacekeepers took your mother after your name was called, and your father after he read the Treaty," Katniss explained softly, avoiding looking at Madge. "I didn't see where they took them. They didn't come to see you?"

The only response Madge could give was a shake of her head. Silence descended on the room, or as much silence as was possible when one person was sobbing. Madge knew that Katniss would have to leave soon, that their time was very limited. It seemed silly, not something this stoic girl in front of her would want to waste her time with, but Madge couldn't stop thinking of Snow. Before she could stop herself the words came tumbling out, "I know you probably won't want to, and it's stupid of me to ask, but I have a cat. If something happened to my parents, would you kill him so he doesn't starve? It's ok. I'd rather he died like that, than starving. Tannis Harbor could bring you him, if you ask."

Whatever Katniss was going to say, she wasn't able to. Peacekeepers entered the room, three of them, and much like they had with Haymitch, they escorted her from the room. Madge watched numbly, berating herself for letting her last words to Katniss be about a kitten. What made her think that she would care? Madge hadn't even said thank you for coming, for being her friend. And why should Katniss care about a starving kitten when she had a sister and mother to hunt for? Now probably Gale's family, too. It was just too much. When the Peacekeepers took her away, Madge couldn't stop crying.


	2. Just Children Yesterday

Gale had often wondered what it would be like to be Reaped. He'd imagined hearing his name called would feel a bit like being hit in the face with a brick. Physically, it hadn't hurt at all. Emotionally, it had been worse. For a fleeting instant he'd thought about running, cursing himself for not having tried harder to convince Katniss that leaving would have been the better option. Better than being herded like cattle into the town square, ripe for the Capitol's picking. To be forced onto a stage, then a room with guards outside while he waited to say good-bye to everyone he loved.

But running hadn't been an option when his family was standing in that crowd. Gale wouldn't have made it two steps before the Peacekeepers descended on him, anyway. What price would his family have paid for that? What price might they be paying now? For his stunt at the end, when that Peacekeeper had grabbed him, like the other one had Madge. He hadn't been able to stand feeling so cornered, so helpless. So he'd lashed out. All he had to show for it was a swollen lip with a cut that still stung and the knowledge that he was still going to have to kill someone, probably multiple someones, in order to survive.

At least he might have a chance, not like Madge. Gale knew how to hunt, knew enough edible plants that he felt he could manage if the Arena had a forest. Plus, he was strong, knew how to fight. That could work to his advantage. What did Madge know? How to wear pretty dresses and braid her hair with pink ribbons?  _You_ _won_ _'_ _t_ _be_ _going_ _to_ _the_ _Capitol_. He'd told her that, and statistically the odds had been in her favor. Gale could only name a handful of Merchant children who'd been chosen in the Games he could remember. Yet, of course it had been possible.

Gale was standing by the window, wondering how it was possible someone as  _soft_  as Madge would survive even a day in the Games when the door opened. Turning, he saw his mother come into the room, holding Posy close. Rory stood beside her, clutching Vicks hand. All four of them were crying, but it was Posy who nearly undid him completely. Sweet little Posy who was too young to even understand what being Reaped really meant, except that you didn't come home. When she reached for him, Gale closed the distance between them immediately, taking her into his arms.

"Shh, it's going to be alright, Pose," he told her, trying to keep his voice from shaking and failing.

Crying would only make this worse, only make all of them cry harder. Gale refused to allow himself to cry, not here, with the Capitol's cameras waiting for him outside. His mother's arms came around him and Posy, her hand running gentle circles on his back as she hugged him. Gale let his cheek come to rest on the top of her head, savoring this moment, perhaps the last he would be allowed to spend with his family. Vicks and Rory joined the hug, awkwardly but with success, so that Gale was surrounded by them. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done, keeping himself from crying.

"Gale," his mother began, but the words died as she cried against him. Finally, she managed, "I love you, so much. Don't you forget that. Just try and come home to us."

"Katniss will bring you food, don't worry about that," Gale said, though he knew that wasn't why she'd told him to try and come home. His life compared to the game he brought her from hunting were incomparable in her eyes, he knew that. It was just too hard to say anything else.

Then the Peacekeepers were there, disentangling him from his family. Posy screamed, locking her arms around his neck so they couldn't take her. Gale had to coax her to let go, because he wasn't entirely convinced they wouldn't resort to hurting her if it came down to it. "Posy, go with mom. It'll be alright, just go with mom," he whispered, kissing her cheek as they pulled her away and deposited her into their mother's waiting arms.

It wasn't the way he wanted to leave them, not the last memory of them he wanted to take into the Arena with him. He hadn't even said a proper good-bye to any of them, but especially Vicks and Rory, though he'd squeezed each of their hands just before they'd been led away. If he'd just had another minute, if he could just go back and do it over, he would have said so much more. But it was too late. Now he might not ever see them again. Closing his eyes against the image of his family without him, Gale told himself to simply breathe, to concentrate on inhaling and exhaling until the desire to kill the next Peacekeeper he saw faded.

He hadn't known she'd come into the room until her hands were on his face. Gale opened his eyes to find Katniss, standing in front of him, staring up with fresh tears on her cheeks. That hit him harder than Posy had. This was Katniss, his Katniss, who was made of the hardest stone he'd ever come across. She didn't cry. When was the last time he remembered her crying? Never. Yet she was,  _for_ _him_. There was nothing he could do but hold her at first, crushing her against him so that her warmth and scent enveloped him.

"You can do it," she said, pulling back, a desperate tone in her voice. "You can win. You have to."

"I'll try my hardest," Gale promised, trying not to think too hard of what he'd have to do in order to win. It was just like hunting, if he could forget what his prey was.

"Prim wanted to give you something," Katniss whispered, stepping away from him so that for the first time Gale saw her standing near the door. Prim's face was pinched and broken looking. Gale hadn't been sure his heart could break anymore, until that moment.

"A token," she said, coming toward him with her hand out.

Gale saw the little wooden cat he'd carved the summer before resting in her palm. It was one of many he'd made for her, little trinkets she liked to carry in her pockets. Now she wanted him to have it, the one thing from his District he would be allowed to take with him into the Arena. She pressed it into his hand, making a sound deep inside her throat like she was trying to keep herself from crying. As if she were trying to be brave. In the end she failed, clinging to him as she sobbed. It wasn't until Katniss smoothed back Prim's hair, whispering into her ear that she calmed down enough to let him go.

Before he could stop himself, Gale caught Katniss' hand and drew her to him. He'd wanted to kiss her, so many times, and he'd always restrained himself out of fear she'd end their friendship. She was so adamant about wanting nothing to do with romance, even if sometimes he thought perhaps she felt the same way he did, only saying the things she did because she was afraid. But he couldn't leave without doing it now, not when he wasn't sure he'd get another chance. At first, she kissed him back, then broke away, shaking her head.

"No, Gale, not like this."

 _Not_ _like_ _this_. He started to ask her what that meant, if it meant she'd be willing to kiss him under different circumstances, but the Peacekeepers gave him no time. Katniss shot him one last glance as they escorted her and Prim from the room, one that was so full of sadness Gale was tempted to cause another scene just so he could touch her again. Then she was gone, leaving him alone with two Peacekeepers wearing stony expressions on their faces, who eyed him with suspicion. As if he were going to attack them at any moment. They had to know he wasn't that stupid.

The Peacekeepers led him from the room in silence. Gale was thankful they didn't try to make conversation with him. When they rounded a corner, he saw Madge, flanked on either side by Peacekeepers, with two more trailing behind her. It was more of an escort than tributes generally had, more than he even had. Something about the image of her, so small compared to the men didn't seem right to him. She'd been crying hard enough that her face was still a little red, and when he was close enough, he saw her cheeks were still wet with tears. Certainly not the picture of someone dangerous enough to warrant four Peacekeepers.

As she stepped aside for a Peacekeeper to open the door to the car waiting for them, Gale saw the dark bruise forming on her arm. It wasn't hard to feel sorry for Madge, or to feel badly that he'd told her she wouldn't be going to the Capitol. How could he have known they'd both wind up like this? For all his fear of the Reaping, he'd had to believe he wouldn't be picked, that he would have gone home with Katniss to celebrate. He'd believed that Madge would have gone back to her large home, to eat her strawberries, doing whatever it was she did there by herself. Until that moment, he'd never given it more than a second's worth of thought.

Neither of them spoke on the short drive to the station, though Gale found he couldn't keep himself from glancing at Madge the entire time. She'd turned her body away so that she was staring out the window, so he couldn't really see her face. He'd thought about saying something, but what was there to say? What words could he possibly give her that would lend some form of comfort? Besides, they would have stuck in his throat, feeling unnatural. She didn't even like him, that much he knew. What was the point? No, staying silent seemed better. For the both of them.

Once at the station, Gale saw that there were reporters everywhere, their cameras trained on the car like a hawk's eye on the kill. Anger made his heart beat faster, his hands forming fists as he watched them. With clenched jaw, he exited the car, wanting nothing more than to curse at each and every one of them. Especially Effie when she stepped forward, smiling that bright ugly smile of hers. He'd never had to try so hard to restrain himself, except perhaps the night Darius had flirted with Katniss about that kiss. It helped to concentrate on Madge, walking ahead of him, tracing the line of her elaborate braid with the pink ribbon at the end.

"Just a few smiles for the cameras, then we'll be on our way," Effie said, still smiling herself, mouth stretched so wide Gale wondered if her face would break in half. He thought it might be an improvement, really. For a moment, he thought she'd read his mind, because she looked at him disapprovingly, then hissed, "I said  _smile_."

Neither he nor Madge obeyed that command. He was too busy glaring at everyone, and Madge had yet to lift her eyes from the ground. The moment Effie relented and allowed them to enter the train, Gale sighed in relief. At least, for the time being, he would be away from their watching eyes. To be allowed to feel his own personal pain in peace, alone. Or so he hoped. Sure enough, Effie led them to their rooms, first Madge's, then his, just down the hall. He didn't hear most of what she said, except that he would be expected at dinner in an hour and could wear anything he found in the drawers, simply closing the door in her face.

Not bothering to change out of his clothes, Gale collapsed on the bed. He didn't even take the time to explore the room, wanting nothing to do with it. Instead, he lay staring at the ceiling, not the slightest bit tired yet exhausted all the same. Gale's thoughts shouldn't have been full of Madge then, but they were. Ever since he'd seen her in that hall, it had been hard for him to ignore the presence of her, even when she wasn't in the room with him. He couldn't stop thinking of the way she'd stood there staring at him, staring  _through_  him after her father had read the Treaty of Treason, like she was already dead.

Gale had never really thought of her as a person before, not in the same way he thought of others he knew. Madge was just the Mayor's daughter, that pretty girl who Katniss sometimes talked about and sat with at lunch in school. The girl who liked berries, even when they weren't strawberries, but never smiled when they brought them to her door. Even when he got angry at her, like he had earlier, it wasn't at  _her_ , but at the division the Capitol had made between people like her and people like him. Because she wasn't someone that had meant anything more to him than the coins she gave them.

Madge had never been a real part of his world until the Reaping, until he'd had to stand beside her as the chosen tributes for District Twelve. Only then had she come into focus for Gale, as someone who mattered, because she didn't deserve to die. None of them did. He hated this, that the Capitol forced the Districts to give up their children, even though in his eyes neither he nor Madge were truly children anymore. Or maybe she was. He wasn't sure he'd ever really been a child, not the way he should have been. Perhaps she was still untouched enough to hold some of that childlike innocence.

Thinking of Madge, in her white dress, it wasn't hard for Gale to imagine that she was yet a child, lost and afraid. He found he couldn't help comparing her to Katniss, so starkly different in every way he could imagine. Like him, Katniss had never been given the gift of a childhood, never granted the luxuries being the Mayor's daughter would have provided her. She was tempered steel, where Madge was fragile glass that had already begun to crack. Anyone could see she wasn't strong enough. Gale had seen it before. Some tributes broke before they ever set foot in the Arena, inevitably dying in the bloodbath because they had no fight in them. Only it was different this time, because he knew her. It bothered him, the thought of her life ending that way.

Gale hadn't realized an hour had past until Effie knocked at his door, asking if he was hungry. He almost told her that yes, he was  _always_  hungry, but thought better of it. Talking to her meant she'd talk back, and if he could avoid that, he was certainly going to try. By the time he'd opened the door she was gone, which meant he had to find his way to the dining room on his own. Once he had, he saw Effie seated beside Madge, who was no longer wearing her Reaping clothes, but a pair of dark pants with a pale blue shirt, the sleeves long enough to hide the bruise on her arm. This new look, so different from the skirts and dresses she usually wore, suited her.

Two empty seats were left at the table, one for Gale and one presumably for Haymitch who was still absent from the room. Sliding into the one across from Madge, he looked around, noting how  _fine_  everything was. More expensive than him, that was for sure. He wondered what would happen if he broke something. Would it even matter? Would the Capitol just replace it with another piece, just as expensive as the last? Gale didn't doubt that was the case. It rekindled his anger, at their blatant displays of wealth when he'd gone his whole life with next to nothing. Certainly nothing that came to even a fraction of the worth of the  _plates_ in front him.

"Haymitch isn't feeling well, so you'll have your chance to discuss things with him in the morning," Effie told them as the first course of their meal was brought in. _The_ _first_ _course_. A meal with courses was a concept so completely foreign to Gale he didn't quite understand it until they brought in the third. He'd never seen so much food before.

Near the end, while Gale was enjoying five different types of cheese and fruit he'd never heard of, Effie said, "Well, at least you two have decent  _manners_ _._ The pair last year ate everything with their hands, like a couple of  _savages_. It completely upset my digestion."

Looking up, he saw Madge set down the piece of cheese she'd had speared on the end of her fork. She stared at Effie, almost like she didn't fully comprehend what had been said. Then, she pushed her plate away from her. Gale was pleased that she looked angry with Effie, like he was. At least she seemed to have some sense of conscience concerning it. The tributes had both been from the Seam. He doubted they'd had a single decent meal their entire life. Who could blame them for eating like  _savages_  when faced with the amount of food the Capitol had shoved on them? Gale couldn't.

"Yeah, well maybe if the Capitol had provided them with more food every day they wouldn't have," he snapped, tossing his own piece of cheese onto his plate. Effie stared at him like he'd grown another head. No one touched the chocolate cake that came next.

An uncomfortable silence had fallen on the room that none of them seemed inclined to break until finally, Effie daintily stood, smiling first at Gale, then Madge. "If we're all finished, then," she said, motioning toward the hall before walking toward it.

Madge exchanged a glance with Gale as she rose to her feet, but he sat there, refusing to obey so readily. Curiosity got the better of him eventually. He found the pair seated in another room, with couches that looked as comfortable as they turned out to be when he sat down. This was where they'd watch the recap of the Reapings, that much was clear. Gale didn't want to. He didn't want to know who the others were, the tributes who would never make it out of the Arena alive. The entire time, he knew he'd simply be wondering,  _are_ _you_ _going_ _to_ _be_ _the_ _first_ _to_ _die_ _?_ Or,  _am_ _I_ _going_ _to_ _have_ _to_ _kill_ _you_ _?_

As always, the volunteers upset Gale. He'd never understood the desire to go into the Arena with the knowledge that you'd come out of it a murderer, if you even came out of it at all. Yet every year the Career districts had volunteers, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember a single volunteer from any of the other districts in any of the Games he'd watched. When he saw the boy with the crippled foot from Ten, Gale hoped someone would volunteer for him. He wouldn't survive a minute. But no one did. And no one volunteered for the twelve year old girl from Eleven, either. All he hoped was for both of them to die quickly, sickened by the thought.

None of them, however, looked quite so haunted as Madge when she was called and her mother started screaming for her. Gale couldn't help but glance at her, the Madge seated in a chair to his right. She wasn't looking at the screen, eyes on her hands in her lap, lips pressed tightly together. At any moment it looked like she might start crying again. The sound of Effie saying his name drew Gale's attention back to the recap. It was strange, seeing the events happen again this way. Almost like it wasn't really him it had happened to.

Things Gale had missed before, like the sad look on Effie's face as she stared at them, he was able to see clearly. And Katniss' salute, before the rest of the District had joined in, which left the commentators somewhat baffled. There was also the clever way the footage had been cut, to remove Haymitch being taken away by the Peacekeepers when he'd come forward to greet Madge. The altercation at the end was also missing, along with any footage of Gale or Madge coming out of the Justice Building or at the station getting on the train.

Gale couldn't fathom why any of these things had been important enough to take out. Perhaps they hadn't wanted to show a tribute fighting with Peacekeepers? Would that have seemed too much like a rebellion? Would the image of Gale with his cut lip have sparked questions the Capitol didn't want to answer? Or was he thinking too much about it all, letting his hatred for the Capitol make him paranoid? It all brought back the memory of four armed Peacekeepers escorting Madge. No, he was missing something, he had to be. But what?

**Author's Note:**

> (Also posted on ffnet under the pen name Daenerys Stormborn)
> 
> I've only recently stumbled across the Madge/Gale pairing, but instantly fell in love with it. Obviously this story is very AU, with the premise that Mayor Undersee has been working in secret opposition of the Capitol for years when he is discovered to be a Rebel. Madge, unfortunately, pays the price by being Reaped, while her family pays for it in their own way back in District Twelve. The story will be told in alternating point of views: Madge, Gale, Haymitch, Katniss and Peeta, for sure. It's possible that some of the other citizens from District 12, tributes and rebels within the Capitol may make appearances as POV characters, also. We'll see how it goes! Thanks in advance for reading. I hope you like it.
> 
> I do not own the Hunger Games, though I wish I did. That honour belongs strictly to Suzanne Collins.


End file.
